


Come Ease My Slumber

by thelittlelioness



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Athletes, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 21:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14756525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlelioness/pseuds/thelittlelioness
Summary: Gansey is ecstatic to write a profile on his best friend and renowned boxer Ronan Lynch for his university's newspaper. What he doesn't expect is that in the process he would make a new friend who just might be a perfect fit for Ronan.College AU featuring new friends, athletics, and being a dick to Tad Carruthers.





	Come Ease My Slumber

**Author's Note:**

> Pynch is the primary focus in this fic and Bluesey is secondary. Just so y'all know what you're getting.
> 
> Title is from "Slumber" by Lewis Watson.
> 
> I know virtually nothing about Georgetown, or boxing, or collegiate gymnastics, so I hope this is accurate-passing. And I know Georgetown doesn't have a gymnastics team but we're gonna pretend for the story's sake. 
> 
> Trigger warning for boxing as it is related to physical abuse. There is no graphic physical abuse in the story. There is, however, psychologically working through one's abuse and traumas.

 

 

  1. _So, your father, Niall Lynch, was a renowned boxer. What made you want to continue his legacy?_
  2. _How much did he teach you, and how much did you learn later on from other trainers_
  3. _Who, in the industry, do you consider your biggest competition?_
  4. _What other sports were you involved in growing up? Wrestling, perhaps?_
  5. _Who is your favorite_ Star Wars _character? The fans want to know._



Okay. This question list was a bit arbitrary, but if Gansey was going to be interviewing his best friend for his college’s newspaper, he had to have some level of professionalism, right? (Or maybe he just wanted to impress his editor for future recommendations? Gansey already knew the answers to all the questions he had typed out, but Dr. Malory didn’t need to know that.)

“Well, what do you need to know?” Ronan had asked a little while ago when Gansey showed up, laptop bag in hand, at his boxing studio. “You should record me telling the story of the time I had a panic attack so bad I puked in the middle of practice, and how that was the last time I boxed for three years. That can be your closing paragraph; I can see it now. ‘Local boxer can’t keep his shit in order, study finds.’ Great headline. You should write that down.”

“I’m just gonna sit here and watch, take some notes for the descriptions. I’m going to take some pictures too, so don’t be alarmed. Just act as if I’m not here.”

Ronan shook his head. “Would be too difficult to ignore the air of pretension in here.” He took a swig of water and pulled on his gloves. Gansey just laughed.

Ronan took fighting stance. Punch-jab, jab-punch. Instantly Gansey was entranced, as always. It was a sort of magic. Gansey could search for lost Welsh myths all he wanted, but a more mundane form of the magic he sought was stored in his best friend’s fists.

If anger was pure magic, Ronan was Merlin.

But then, Ronan had much to be angry about. It was cultivated inside him like a disease, like an enlightenment.

\

As Ronan took his break, chowing down a sandwich and a red Gatorade, Gansey wandered around the facility. To the left of the entrance was the gym, a maze of equipment and a back room with an operational boxing ring for practice matches. Next door, under the same owner, was the arena. A square boxing ring stood in the center, surrounded in all cardinal directions with stands for the audience. Fancy lighting rigs and cameras dotted the room. Both facilities seemed dark and red, reeking of blood and aggression.

Ronan wasn’t much of a talker, and Gansey had his questions, completely separate from the ones he showed Dr. Malory for the interview. Yeah, the university’s population would find all of this interesting, so he was happy to write it, but needed an expose for himself. A personal study of Ronan Lynch expanding past the subjectivity Gansey always had for him. There was one goal to start it off: find every bit of sweet and light and happy here. The beauty. This sport had to be more than it seemed. Ronan, after all, was more than he seemed.

\

The first step of Gansey’s Objective Expose on Ronan Lynch was underway, and to kick it off, he headed to the arena. It was around six in the evening, and the workers were setting up for the fight at eight, so he figured it was early enough to be able to tear them from their work for a few minutes. The manager was busy talking with media corporations, so she led him to the cashier at the box office. His name tag read _Adam,_ and he was _cute._

(Gansey wore lots of pastels and jewel tones so some people assumed he was gay. He was always quick to correct them: I’m straight, not that it’s a bad thing to be gay; my best friend is gay. If he _was_ gay, though, he’d go for someone like this Adam guy. Angular lines, but undeniably adorable with those freckles.)

“Hey, I’m Gansey. I’m working on a story for my college’s newspaper on Ronan Lynch. Would you mind contributing?”

“I don’t know much about him; I just work here.”

(Gansey wondered for a fleeting second if this guy was interested in dating men. Ronan wasn’t much of a dater but Gansey knew his type.)

“Can you just tell me about this place, then?” Gansey switched on his voice recorder app.

Adam listed hours, events, media attention... Gansey wrote down key words to focus his eventual playback of the recording.

Adam seemed tired, almost listless, but Gansey figured that was understandable. He couldn’t imagine how exhausting it must be to attend college and work. Was it presumptuous to assume Adam was in school? Gansey’s own classes at Georgetown were rigorous enough, not that Aglionby hadn’t prepared him for it, but he was always so busy…

Gansey was in the middle of copying down the Twitter handles of some of the arena’s regular fighters, when—

“Hey—weren’t you in my Latin class? Professor Whelk at 9:15?”

“Last semester? Georgetown?

Gansey nodded.

“I guess so, then.”

“You had the highest grade in the class, right? I attempted not to resent you for that, but it certainly was difficult.”

“I just wish something more practical would come so natural, you know?”

Gansey grimaced. “My best friend is fluent in Latin — he can read and write and speak it as if it were his first language. At some point in high school, I gave up trying to understand how he does it.”

“You said you’re writing about Ronan Lynch?”

Gansey nodded.

“I don’t know much about him or any of the other fighters, but I saw him reading _The Iliad_ once, idly. As if it wasn’t difficult.”

The conversation was easy now, and though the atmosphere was menacing, Gansey felt warm and comfortable. He wondered if that’s how Ronan always felt here. “That sounds like something he would do,” he mused to Adam.

“You know him?”

And though this felt so effortless, Gansey had to remind himself that Adam wasn’t a friend. He didn’t know the intricacies of Gansey or Ronan’s lives. This was obvious, but it seemed false.

“Right—sorry. Ronan and I have known each other for years and years. Probably seems biased to write about him for the paper, but he’s deserving.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s probably already told you all this, but here’s his fighting schedule. You should stop by sometime.” Gansey was unsure if this was Adam’s feeble attempt at upselling or a feeble attempt at friendship, but he appreciated the gesture all the same.

Gansey was unable to confirm his attendance at Ronan’s match because early fans had shown up at the ticket booth, decked out in their spirit wear.

One customer gave Adam a shallow smile and developed small talk with him as Adam rang her up. She was short, with chunky dark hair and a very striking outfit. Over her baby pink leggings she wore a white jersey, and resting on her purse — a bag that seemed to have been pulled straight from the ‘70s in both style and condition — was an acid-washed denim jacket.

Once the line was cleared, Gansey addressed Adam, desperate for information on her before more customers entered the line. He motioned to the girl, who was walking towards the seating.

“She’s… luminous. It seemed like you know her?”

Gansey was nothing if not presumptuous, but he wanted to be polite. He didn’t want to intrude on sweet Adam’s privacy.

Adam sighed. “That’s Blue Sargent. She goes to Georgetown too, on a gymnastics scholarship. She likes boxing fairly well, so she’ll occasionally come for a match.”

“Do you know if she’s seeing anyone?”

Adam’s expression darkened, and he helped a few customers seeking tickets for tonight’s match.

“Did I say the wrong thing?”

A cloudy expression came upon Adam’s face, but it passed quickly. He didn’t say anything, and Gansey looked imploringly at him.

“We dated, months ago, Blue and I. It was brief and ended badly, but we tried to uphold some sort of friendship since we had to see each other still. We were in a tiny seminar class at the time.”

“Oh.”

Gansey was mildly dismayed, but he held out hope as looked back at Adam’s pale eyes and freckled skin. He looked worn and tired, but as they spoke, a spark held in his eyes. The girl — Blue — would stay in the back of Gansey’s mind, surely, but for now, he would focus on this newly blooming friendship with Adam.

\

Between his classes, his jobs, and the looming pressure to find an internship before the deadline for next semester’s credits, Adam didn’t have much free time. He only ever saw his friends outside of class and study sessions at mealtimes. He had just finished emailing the secretary of his community service organization to inform her that he would have to go inactive next semester due to his (not yet existent) internship. He felt a twinge of guilt when he remembered that most of his good friends were ones he’d met in the organization, but an internship was essential if he wanted decent job placement after he graduated.

Adam had finished lunch early, so he had a little extra time before his next class. As he had walked into the student center, the university newspaper contributors were advertising their latest issue. Gansey had been talking intimately with a professor, but he did catch Adam’s eye and smile. At that point, Adam had felt it would be rude not to, so he hastily grabbed a copy and headed on to the dining hall.

Now, he flipped through it. Truth be told, he was curious. Gansey was unrealistically charismatic, sometimes insensitive, but seemed genuine and naturally kindhearted. In the two weeks since he had struck up a conversation with Adam at work, Gansey had found Adam at the oddest hours and spent time with him — working on his papers beside him as Adam completed his economics practice problems, trading stories, people watching. Adam wanted to be suspicious of Gansey’s fast friendship, but this wasn’t high school, and if was honest with himself he felt a connection to Gansey for reasons he couldn’t explain.

At one point, Adam had inadvertently come out to Gansey, but it didn’t faze him. He had been embarrassed at first because though he was in one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the country, he still expected people to act like they did in rural Virginia. Adam was an observant person, so he’d noticed when Gansey started mentioning his best friend Ronan a little more often around him, but he never commented on it. Gansey could talk Ronan up all he wanted, but it rubbed Adam the wrong way that Ronan’s whole sport was centered around hitting. He only worked at the arena because they paid a dollar more per hour than his old job, and he never stayed past his shift for the matches. Adam’s on-campus therapist had taught him how to compartmentalize — when he had first come to school, he would have had to settle for the lower-paying job because he hadn’t made enough progress yet in his traumas.

After stalling a bit by reading Gansey’s column on classic cars, Adam found the features page. Just as had been exhibited in the column, Gansey’s journalistic voice was just as eloquent as his speaking voice. He caught himself becoming bitter about old money, but he stopped himself quick in his tracks. His therapist would be proud.

He read on. Possibly by virtue of the close relationship between Gansey and Ronan Lynch, the article was intimate but not too private. It read like a narrative as Gansey described the boxing match, and woven in were details of Lynch’s life relevant to his profession. Adam learned that his father had died six years ago and this had nearly ruined him. Gansey described Ronan as a better boxer and a better man from confronting his grief and coming out relatively okay on the other side. He spoke of Ronan’s brothers, of whom he was very protective, and the farm Ronan’s mother ran back home. Gansey didn’t explicitly state Ronan’s hometown in the text, but Adam was familiar enough with Virginia to know it had to be somewhere on his side of the state. Which meant that Gansey’s home was somewhere on his side of the state. Adam wondered if Old Money Gansey had gone to that stuck-up prep school Aglionby, which was minutes away from Adam’s public school and educated mostly sons of senators.

Adam finished the article and was surprised at the general admiration he felt for Lynch. Maybe Gansey was getting to his head. But he’d always assumed that Ronan was on another plane of existence from him — a world without school, without worrying over money, without the loneliness of the countryside or the artificial pretentiousness of Washingtonian elite. A world where family means family.

Now, he didn’t know what to think. It was the mature thing, sure, to keep an open and neutral mind about it. Adam was always a bit of an asshole about privilege but he felt compassion for Lynch, now. Understanding. And he had an inexplicable feeling that their experiences weren’t that different after all, even though, on paper, different is all they were.

But now it was a quarter to two, so he had to leave the dining hall so that he wouldn’t be late for stats. As he shoved his plate and cup into the disposal, Gansey caught up with him. Gansey’s next class was in the same building as Adam’s, so they usually walked together.

“I read your article,” Adam began. “It was good. Really.”

Gansey’s eyes lit up, but still, he bit his lip. “You don’t think my personal connection made it too biased in Ronan’s favor, do you?”

Adam shook his head. “If anything, I think that made it stronger. You used your prior knowledge to highlight what the readers would be most interested in and would most relate to.” Adam glanced at Gansey, a wry smile on his face. “Professional boxers: they’re just like you!”

Gansey let out a breath. “I’m glad you think so. I value your opinion highly, Adam Parrish.”

Adam didn’t know how to reply to that, so he just grinned and wondered how he ended up becoming friends with such a bizarrely wonderful guy.

They sped up the stairs into their academic building, and as they approached Adam’s room, Gansey turned to him. “Hey, Ronan and I are grabbing pizza tonight to celebrate the article. You should join if you can.”

Adam was hesitant, but he was certainly intrigued to meet the famous Ronan Lynch. He worked near him, around him, but as he’d told Gansey, he’d never spoken to him. He thought of reasons not to go, and then he thought of reasons to go. He had gotten his paycheck yesterday, and the idea of anything besides dining hall food made his mouth water even though he just finished lunch.

“Ok,” Adam said. “I’m off work at 8.”

Gansey beamed. “Nino’s at 8:30, then?”

Adam’s stomach lurched. That was where Blue worked, and she usually did have shifts on Thursday nights. And God only knew what Gansey would do when he saw her. But he nodded, and besides, he couldn’t bring up any of these points because Gansey had just hurried off to his own classroom. Adam walked into stats, wondering how he just landed himself dinner with his ex-girlfriend, his new friend, and a guy he’d never even talked to.

\

Adam pulled his ugly old car into the Nino’s Pizza parking lot at 8:20 that night. He didn’t spot Gansey’s orange Camaro, so he took a moment to center himself. Work had been fine, mindless even, and he’d spent most of the time debating if it was more important to impress Blue or Ronan tonight. He took a large gulp of the hours-cold coffee in his cup holder to give him a bit of a bounce and jumped out into the crisp late-winter evening. He walked inside and _of course_ Blue would be the first one he saw.

He expected her to be weird about it but she just grinned at him. “Adam, hey!”

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. She’d stopped by at the boxing arena not too long ago, but their conversation had been a minute long. Before that, they had gotten lunch or studied together a few times, but he wasn’t entirely sure where they stood.

She nodded. “Been doing well?”

Adam had been feeling great in the past couple weeks since he and Gansey had started hanging out. He was busy, as always, but in he didn't feel stretched beyond his means. “Yeah, I am. You?”

“Magnificent.” There was a spark in her eye. “We should hang out soon if you have time for it.”

Adam gave her a small smile and said, “I’d like that.”

“So who are you meeting tonight? Is it a date?” Her tone was teasing, no trace of jealousy. Adam was relieved.

“Nah, just some friends. Table for three, by the way.”

At that point, the door opened behind them and Gansey and Ronan walked in.

“Adam, my boy!” Gansey embraced Adam while Ronan just smirked behind him. “Ronan, this is Adam. Adam, Ronan.”

Adam felt like he should’ve shaken Ronan’s hand, but that was clearly not Ronan’s speed. It wasn’t like Adam had never seen the guy before — but being personally introduced was a bit different. Adam wasn’t on the clock, and Ronan wore a ratty leather jacket instead of sweaty workout clothes. Ronan gave Adam a look that was halfway between a grin and a snarl, but somehow Adam felt welcome enough.

Blue cleared her throat and jutted out her chin to gesture the way to their table. The three of them already knew what they wanted, so Blue got their orders all in one. Gansey ordered a margarita pizza, and Ronan got something with barbecue sauce. When it was Adam’s turn, Blue guessed, “A Coke and a slice with bacon?”

Adam nodded, surprised that she remembered. She leaned in and asked him, “Want me to add blue cheese to that?”

“You wouldn’t.” He stared her down, remembering their first date when she had shared her pizza with him and he’d absolutely hated it. Blue cackled and then excused herself to the kitchen. When Adam looked back to Gansey and Ronan, he found the latter staring curiously at him.

“That’s Adam’s ex-girlfriend,” Gansey explained to Ronan. “You guys seem to be getting along well,” he observed. His tone was sincere, but Gansey’s eyes were definitely on Blue’s retreating figure.

“Well, we’re friends now, I guess. I’m over her.” And even though a big part of Adam missed her presence in his life, it was true. “As a couple, we sort of just exploded. We would fight constantly over the stupidest things. Without the pressure — or the constant attention — of romance, it doesn’t get so heated.”

“Mmmh. Well, she’s very pretty, don’t you think Ronan?”

Ronan snorted as he watched Gansey watching Blue. “Straights,” he muttered, low enough so that it was just for Adam.

Adam smirked, but this also gave him a bit of pause. So Gansey had told Ronan that Adam was bisexual. This didn’t bother him; he was in the closet when and only when he was back home. It was, however, very telling as to what Gansey’s intentions were in introducing them. As Adam and Ronan shared this look, Adam noted that Ronan was devastatingly attractive. Adam turned this thought over in his mind, and the moment seemed to still as Ronan held his eye contact. Ronan’s eyes burned cool blue with the intensity Adam always figured Ronan would have, and they both seemed unable to look away.

The moment was broken, however, when a new voice at the table said, “Ronan Lynch?”

Adam slid his gaze to see Tad Carruthers standing by them. Gansey fist-bumped him, but Adam just rolled his eyes. Tad was obnoxious, and the one date they had gone on together, a month after Adam’s breakup with Blue, was a complete disaster. Tad had invited him to some fraternity event, and Adam said yes to be polite. By Tad’s third drink, Adam had excused himself to go finish a paper that wasn’t due for two weeks.

“Ronan, I’m a big fan. That last match against McLaggen? You were incredible. You destroyed him. You have a real talent.”

Ronan, to his credit, didn’t shout expletives or pander to Tad’s admiration. He held a poker face and nodded.

“Anyway, I was wondering if you could sign this for me.” Tad thrust his neatly-creased Nino’s receipt onto the table and pulled a pen out of the frocket of his fraternity t-shirt.

Ronan promptly drew a dick on it.

When Gansey gave him a fatherly look that read _must we always do this?_ Ronan simply replied, “Well, he wanted my John Han _cock_.”

Now it was Adam’s turn to snort in laughter. Gansey shot him a look but Adam couldn’t find it in himself to be remorseful.

“Right, well… have a nice evening.” Tad shuffled away in silence.  

A little while later, as the boys alternated between jovial conversation and thoughtful munching on their pizza pies, Blue returned to the table. She held a slice of her own blue cheese-infested pizza in hand, and, to the surprise of all present, sat down.

After receiving a number of inquisitive glances, she said, “It’s my break. And Adam’s my friend.” A shrug, and then a covert glance at Gansey. Adam knew her well enough to be able to read her expressions with little difficulty, so he understood, but he really didn’t mind.

“Tad told me what you did.” She glared at Ronan.

Ronan raised his chin a little higher. “What’s it to you? he seemed to ask.

“Do you know how immature that was? And unprofessional? What are you, twelve?”

“What are you, twelve?” Ronan mocked, because it was not beneath him.

Blue gave out a deep, dramatic sigh. “Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian so that I wouldn’t have to deal with all this testosterone.”

“Do you really, Maggot?” Ronan leveled her with a sharp glare.

Blue gave him a relenting expression then flicked a bit of her crust in Ronan’s direction.

And somehow, that was the beginning of a true, deep friendship.

\

Adam was a little restless. He had an hour left of sitting in this damn chair before it was time to go home, where his Machiavelli reading and flavorless rice were waiting for him. And it was dead here. It was dinner time, so the gym was fairly empty. Ronan had been practicing for a while, but he had disappeared, presumably to shower, some time ago. Adam just wished he had something to do, but he’d gotten told off once before for attempting to work on homework on the clock, so he wouldn’t risk it again. Receptionist work wasn’t as bone-deep exhausting as his old job as a mechanic, but it did leave him a little antsy on nights he had a couple hours of sedentary schoolwork ahead of him.

As Adam checked his watch for the fourth time in five minutes, Ronan strode out of the locker rooms. He hefted a large, stinky sports duffel over one shoulder, but he himself smelled clean, fresh. Adam imagined the water droplets that must’ve been clinging to the stubble on his scalp just minutes before.

“Good workout?” Adam asked.

Ronan gave a grunt and a nod, which Adam supposed was a typical Ronan response, but he also stared at Adam. Ronan made to leave, but Adam stopped him.

“So, how’d you like that article of Gansey’s?”

Ronan nodded to acknowledge Adam’s question, and Adam could practically see the gears turning as Ronan gathered his words.

Ronan, for his part, didn’t know how to answer the damn question without going too deep. He and Adam were friends, but not on such a serious level, and Ronan hated the beginning stages of friendships for just this reason. But when he looked up into Adam’s eyes, all notions of casualty went out the window. Adam’s eyes were blue like his but much paler, and he quickly looked away before his blush grew too obvious.

“It was… flattering? He knows a lot more about boxing than I thought,” Ronan admitted.

“You’re his best friend; of course he thinks highly of you, and of course he’s paid attention over the years. Besides, you’re a damn good boxer,” Adam agreed with a smile, and then he smirked when Ronan blushed in response.

Ronan couldn’t believe that Adam had gotten the upper hand in their conversation so quickly. He grasped for a new subject, and it was all so much of a rush that Ronan didn’t even know how they got on the topic of his eccentric roommate Noah.

Adam’s eyes crinkled as he laughed at the story of some old prank war Ronan and Noah had gotten in. “God, it’s so _nice_ to be friends with your roommates. Freshman year I got randomly placed with this obnoxious guy. Henry Cheng. He was running for freshman class president the first week, and he would always have his prep-school friends over. We eventually became decently friendly, but that first semester was hard.”

And maybe Ronan lived at home when he went to private school, a time that felt like another life, but he did have so many dorm nightmare stories by proxy.  

Ronan was nearly finished telling some story about a campus rivalry when —

“Wait, did you say Aglionby? Where in Virginia are you from?”

“Singer’s Falls.”

Adam blinked hard to make sure he was hearing this correctly. “I’m from Henrietta.”

They both stared at each other in shock for a minute. Adam had almost attended Aglionby — he’d been admitted, but the academy just hadn’t been able to provide him enough scholarship money to make it work. They’d gone to school within a handful of miles of each other; they’d grown up sleeping in beds not twenty minutes apart. And they had only met now. Now, three years out from the last time Adam had even stepped foot it that half of Virginia.

“You know, in the first conversation I ever had with Gansey, he mentioned that you’re quite the Latin aficionado.”

Ronan scoffed. “Such a Gansey word to use.”

“ _And_ I once saw you reading _The Iliad_ here —.”

“Oh? Been paying attention a long time?”

Adam glared at him, then he continued. “Well, I didn’t know you at all at the time so maybe this was shortsighted of me… but it had just surprised me, is all. I hear lots of stuff about the fighters who train here, and it just seemed a little funny that the Great Ronan Lynch has a soft spot for ancient literature. Even when Gansey mentioned it.”

“Only Latin, really,” Ronan replied automatically. He flushed, but it was probably had more to do with the gleam in his eye when Adam mentioned Latin than Adam himself. He didn’t want to read into it, so he raised his eyebrows and let Ronan continue.

“I grew up hearing the myths. My father would read them to my brothers and I. And…” Ronan’s voice was soft, a tenor unlike any Adam had heard from him before. Fathers were a touchy subject for both of them, Adam knew this, but suddenly and urgently he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep at night to that voice. “And I enjoy the language, besides its usefulness in church. I know a little Gaelic too, bits I picked up from my father, but Latin…”

“It gets under your skin, doesn’t it?” Adam agreed. “Would’ve been more practical for me to take Spanish, or French, but something called me to Latin. The structure is so methodical, and it just… transports me.” Adam realized he was waxing poetic a little strongly, so he added, “in a historical sense, I mean.”

Ronan was looking at Adam in a new way and, well, _this_ was scratching underneath his skin.

“It’s a fascinating story, isn’t it? _The Iliad_?” He blurted, desperate for something to ground him. “I wrote a paper about it for my old war and literature class.”

They spent a good few minutes discussing the merits of _The Iliad,_ the poetry of it and the war and Helen and Achilles and Patroclus. Before he knew it, it was almost time for Adam to go, and as they approached the top of the hour, the conversation slowed. The air was heavy with all of the things they wanted to say. The two of them had reached a steady friendship within the larger group lately, but this, this felt different.

“So, how you feel about Dick Gansey going all moony for your ex-girlfriend?” Adam was surprised Ronan would pick this angle, but he took the bait anyway.

Adam rolled his eyes. “If you’d asked me a few months ago I would’ve been so bitter, frankly. But I actually think he’d be better for her. And I would know.”

“Dating girls that bad, huh?”

“Wasn’t all bad. It got me through my adolescence without my father having one more reason to kick the shit out of me,” Adam quipped, and then his eyes went wide when he realized what he’d said. Where _the fuck_ had this easy honesty come from?

“I…” Adam tried to start again, but he couldn’t figure out a way to unsay that.

“Hey man, it’s cool, we all got our demons —”

“I need to go… sweep the locker room.” If he had to look back into Ronan’s eyes after dumping that shit on him he’d probably have a panic attack, and he’d already overshared enough without having to be talked down like the high maintenance bastard he tried to pretend he wasn’t. His therapist sure would get a load of this next Monday.

That night, both men dreamt of blue eyes that were not their own. Adam hopelessly wished there was any area of his life that his trauma hadn’t colored; Ronan wanted both to know _everything_ and enshrine Adam into a nest of warm light so that whatever horrors lay back home could never touch him again.

\

Adam spent the next week avoiding Ronan, and by extension, the group at large. He’d spent some time with Gansey alone or with Blue alone but never with Ronan alone.

“You read the article,” Blue had pointed out once, as she grilled Adam on the issue over teriyaki in the dining hall. “It’s not like Ronan’s lacking on daddy issues either.”

“No one’s gonna judge him for losing his father. Everyone judges the trailer trash victim of abuse. It’s different.”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Blue had snapped.

“You’re right; I’m sorry.” Adam’d sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I feel like I’ve broken a spell. We were getting along so well. I just… all my shit ruined our relationship, ruined so many of my friendships.”

Blue had studied him as she took a bite of her rice noodles. “You like him.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You don’t have to pretend for my sake. You were the one who told me last week how pleased you were with the way we’ve been able to make this transition from exes to friends. You like him. It’s okay.”

Adam had looked apprehensive, but he’d nodded.

“Besides,” Blue had said. “I like Gansey now. Surely that should be obvious.”

Adam did talk about it with his therapist because it was all part of this unlearning-relearning process she had been helping him with for the past two years. So he had a better grasp on the situation, but he still hesitated to approach Ronan for fear he’d permanently offended him.

Which is why he was a little terrified but still pretty relieved when he saw Ronan waiting for him in the parking lot for his residence hall.

Adam had worked a morning shift and then came home for something to eat. Now, he left to make his trek across campus to Blue’s gymnastics competition. Except, well, Ronan’s BMW was parked right next to his shitbox, and Ronan leaned against the side with feigned nonchalance.

“Wanna ride?” Ronan asked. Adam nodded and took the passenger seat, a gesture he hoped absolved him of any requirement to talk about what happened.

They rode in silence. The drive was just long enough for one of Ronan’s shitty EDM songs to play. Adam tapped his finger along to the beat, not out of enjoyment of the rhythm, but out of anxiety.

Adam waited until Ronan parked to speak. “Listen, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to freak out on you. I still don’t know how to talk about my shitty childhood.”

At first, Ronan didn’t say anything. He glanced sideways at Adam and said, “‘s okay.” Then, “C’mon,” and he slid out of the car.

If this had been Blue or Gansey or even his roommate, Adam would have expected more. Something more. Adam was beginning to understand that Ronan worked a little differently than that, but he still wanted confirmation.

“That’s it?” He followed Ronan out of the car and walked in line with him. “We’re good?”

Ronan looked Adam up and down with heavy-lidded eyes and it felt like he had taken control of the conversation. “If I only made friends with people who are less fucked up than I am, that’d make me a big ol’ hypocrite, wouldn’t’cha say?”

Adam shouldered Ronan a bit as they walked, both an acknowledgment of his acceptance and an attempt to lighten the mood. This was about as much heart-to-heart as was apropos on their way to go watch their friend flip in the air a bunch of times.

They entered the building and immediately ran into Gansey, who was chatting with some other polo-ed guy that Adam had never seen before. If he was surprised that Adam and Ronan had come together — or that Adam had stopped avoiding Ronan — he didn’t show it. Adam was grateful for Gansey’s rare tact because he didn’t have the answers to is own questions, let alone Gansey’s.

“Jane’s in the back warming up with her teammates. I went to wish her luck and they kicked me out.”

“Geez, Gansey, do you think they wanted to watch you two make out? So inconsiderate,” Ronan said, shaking his head. Adam rolled his eyes and gave Ronan another light shove.

Gansey made the mistake of taking Ronan’s bait. He straightened his back and replied, “Jane and I haven’t…. Do you think she wants to? Wait, don’t answer that.” Gansey reached for his glasses, but he was wearing his contacts, so he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Anyway, I’m going on a Starbucks run. Would either of you like something? My treat.”

Both Ronan and Adam shook their heads. “Alright, well, I saved some seats in the bleachers.” Gansey described in great detail where to go, and when they found the seats Adam was not surprised to see Gansey’s designer brown suede jacket laid out across the metal bench. Next to it was a paper grocery bag filled with —

“He got her flowers?” It wasn’t exactly a question, but it certainly surprised Adam. He was a little bitter that when he had dated Blue, he couldn’t have afforded any flowers, let alone the exquisite blooms Gansey had purchased. And Gansey wasn’t even her boyfriend yet.

He took a deep breath to will away the thought and carefully folded Gansey’s jacket, allowing himself one moment of luxury as he slid his fingers along the soft fabric.

“He’s gonna get his shit stolen one day,” Ronan said from the other side of Adam. “Never trust college students.” To prove his point, Ronan took a half-eaten chocolate bar from one of the pockets in Gansey’s jacket. He tore it out of its wrapper then left the wrapper in the jacket pocket. Then he split the remaining chocolate in half and offered it to Adam.

Adam looked at him, unsure if he should take it. It was fancy chocolate, too. Not some 75-cent Hershey’s bar. 

“What? I wash my hands. I’m not a caveman.”

And so Adam begrudgingly took the chocolate. As he did so, their hands brushed, and Ronan pulled back abruptly. Adam suppressed a smug little grin. From the first time they met, there seemed to be a spark between them. At first, Adam had been unsure if it was romantic in nature, but with every passing day he became a little more sure that his own feelings were reciprocated. Or maybe Adam had just been trying to convince himself of this during the week he had been avoiding Ronan.

Ronan chomped on his chocolate, and Adam nibbled on his, and the two chatted lightly.

A few minutes later, Gansey arrived back with his venti mint tea. The drink was entirely not pretentious enough to fit with Gansey’s aesthetic, Adam mused. But alas.

Gansey sat down and asked his two friends about their day. He fiddled with the cardboard drink sleeve as Ronan updated them on his family. Declan was insufferable but still caring, and Matthew was a perfect angel of a boy. So, the usual.

The metal bleachers were uncomfortable, which was to be expected, and even before the programming began they could not help constantly readjusting their positions. It didn’t help that Adam really needed a chiropractor appointment but couldn’t afford one. As such, Adam occasionally swayed into Ronan, triggering a muttered apology and a set of blushes. It was entirely accidental, but by the third occurrence, Gansey shot an inquisitive look Adam’s way. Adam brushed it off, as if to say “nothing’s going on,” but when Gansey’s next look called him on his bullshit, he gave a minute nod. As if he were ashamed of his affections. No, he wasn’t ashamed; he was simply caught in the mental war of letting himself sink ever deeper into his feelings and acknowledging the truth that romance was consuming of his time and energy and it probably would end badly anyway.

But he couldn’t convey all of that in a barely-perceptible nod and the sagging of his shoulders.

Pretty soon after this, the announcer began to explain the order of events. The Georgetown gymnasts were competing against a school from Iowa, and this was the final competition before the championship brackets. They had to sit through a bunch of performances from gymnasts none of them cared about in the least, but they all could at least appreciate the beauty and rigor of the sport. Adam hadn’t attended one of Blue’s competitions in ages, and he had never been to one as important as this one. He was so often miles deep into his own mind that it was refreshing to be reminded how hard everyone around him was working for goals so entirely foreign from his own.

Blue’s first event was on the beam, her best area. Blue had said in the past that she preferred to do beam first because she was likely to have a strong performance, which would ensure her confidence for her other events. As soon as she was within sight, Gansey let out a rather loud cheer with a gleam in his eye. If Adam had known he would be like this, he would have sat so that his deaf ear was facing Gansey. He leaned away from the shout, which meant he leaned towards Ronan. Of course. Just his luck.

All of Blue’s team wore cobalt blue leotards, and Blue sported a pink scrunchie in her low ponytail. None of the three knew how to describe her various flips and pivots and tricks, but she appeared to be pulling them off flawlessly. When Gansey mentioned this, Ronan pointed out that only those trained in a particular sport can really tell how well a performance is executed, so although her set was incredible from their eyes, they couldn’t predict her score.

Blue faltered a tiny bit on her floor routine, but her uneven bars performance was as strong as her beam. She was not a nationally record-breaking gymnast, but she was damn good all the same. This fact only added to the frequency and vigor of Gansey’s cheers. As such, eventually Adam moved from the middle of their group to the other side of Ronan to give his hearing ear a break. Of course, boxing was quite a world apart from gymnastics, but Ronan’s experience as a professional athlete gave him insights that Adam had never thought of.

In the end, Georgetown won, as the highest individual scores had gone to more gymnasts from their own school than from the opposition. Blue had received second place for beam and broke her personal record for uneven bars. Gansey, Ronan, and Adam cheered enthusiastically even though they were all a bit relieved the competition was over after four hours. But friendship certainly did trump sore asses and grumbling stomachs.

Gansey was the one who spotted Blue first, so they went down and wished her well and hugged her and Gansey gave her the flowers. She was torn between hitting him out of indignation at the unnecessary expense and kissing him from the thoughtfulness. Her affection won out and she threw her arms around him, enveloping him in a hug, this one deeper and stronger than Gansey’s initial congratulatory hug. Gansey kissed her cheek, and Ronan made gagging noises from where he and Adam watched on the side.

Adam shoved Ronan but made no move to chastise him further. With a groan, he reminded Ronan that if Gansey and Blue were dating now, or whatever they were, they would be subject to much more than just cheek kisses.

“Do you want to get dinner?” Gansey’s question was directed at all of them since they hadn’t discussed plans after, but it was mostly directed to Blue. “Unless you have plans with your teammates —”

“No, I’d love to,” she replied. “Gimme fifteen minutes to change and grab my stuff.”

While they waited, they agreed that they would take the Pig, since there was no need to use multiple cars when they would all fit in one. After dinner, Gansey would drop Adam and Blue off at their respective dorms and Ronan back at the gym to grab his own car. It went unspoken but Ronan and Adam assumed Blue would be dropped off last, and they didn’t really want to think about what she and Gansey would be getting up to after that. Especially if they were going to be making out in the car that the four of them would all be inside only minutes prior.

Henry Cheng approached Gansey about some student government initiative, and Adam instinctively turned to Ronan. As Henry’s roommate, he’d heard this spiel a thousand times already.

Ronan suggested with a nod of his head that they go outside and then gestured to Gansey where they’d be. The air was cool with a crisp breeze, which Adam agreed was nice after several hours of sitting inside a gym.

Ronan made for a bench, but then he decided he was too antsy to sit, so they just walked slowly around the little courtyard area in front of the building.

“I was thinking,” Ronan said, glancing sideways at Adam. “And you can say no. It’s just a thought. But I was thinking, if you want, I can teach you a little boxing. Self-defense.”

Adam stilled, and Ronan prayed to God he didn’t say the wrong thing. “Not that I think you can’t look after yourself,” he added quickly. “But it might make you feel, I don’t know, in control.”

Adam was quiet and completive for a minute. Then: “Yeah. I think that sounds like a good idea.”

Ronan smiled, and Adam smiled, and then they both marveled at how beautiful the other looked in the lights from the car that was just turned on. Except, it was Gansey’s car, and from the passenger side door Blue requested that they “hurry up already, dumbasses.” Neither of them elected to remind her that it was she they had been waiting on. Adam raised an eyebrow suggestively to Ronan and turned on his heel to get in the car. He didn’t know if this self-defense lesson was supposed to be a date or not, but it didn't really matter. He could tell a date was looming between the two of them either way.

\

Adam didn’t own any proper athletic wear, so for his boxing lesson, he threw on a t-shirt and sweatpants. When he arrived at the gym, Ronan was already going at it. Adam hadn’t seen him box since becoming his friend, so he watched for a minute. Ronan was a natural at it, or maybe that was just the years of practice. His brow was sweaty and his muscles contracted with each punch. Adam was fairly fit from the physical work he had grown accustomed to; he had lost a bit of muscle mass since he stopped working as a mechanic, but he was still lean and in shape. Ronan, however, was on another level. Adam felt like he had to interrupt the silence or else he could spend an inordinate amount of time here staring at Ronan training — his arms, the look in his eyes as he concentrated, the tone of the grunts that escaped every so often.

“Been here long?”

Ronan must’ve noticed Adam when he came in, but he now looked over to Adam for the first time. He reached out a hand to steady the punching bag.

“Bad morning,” he answered between ragged breaths. “Figured I’d come in early. It helps.”

After last time, Adam didn’t want to put himself or Ronan in the position where they might share more than they were comfortable with, so he just nodded and let the conversation move on.

Ronan spent the first ten minutes giving Adam a rundown of the equipment and safety tips. Catching Adam’s eyes, he said, “If at any point you need a break, or you aren’t comfortable, let me know, and we’ll stop.”

Adam nodded, and he knew Ronan well enough at this point to know the unspoken layer beneath that. _I want this to be helpful for you. I want to help you find your limits. I want to help you find a constructive coping mechanism, and this is what worked for me. I want to teach you to defend yourself so that no motherfucker can hurt you again._ Adam understood it all. And he believed that Ronan knew him well enough now to recognize Adam’s eye contact for what it was: a confirmation. Like understood like.

Before they started boxing, Ronan led Adam through a series of warm-ups: running, dynamic stretches, and exercises for muscular stamina. As in shape as Adam was, he never had time for proper workouts, so these exercises hit him harder than he expected. But he wasn’t going to give up, not in front of Ronan. Once the endorphins hit him, he was genuinely enjoying himself.

When it was finally time to start boxing, Ronan began by having Adam mirror his stances and form. “Hold your fist like this. That will decrease your chances of injuring yourself.” He taught basic punches, demonstrating first and letting Adam give it a try. He then gave Adam any pointers or corrections he needed before trying again.

After about forty minutes of this, they took a break. Ronan suggested that they remain in motion to keep up their momentum, so they paced around for a few minutes as they caught their breath and rehydrated.

Adam spent another twenty minutes practicing under the supervision of Ronan, who was actually an excellent teacher. Adam hadn’t expected it because Ronan didn’t prefer to use words to express himself, but perhaps this was an exception.

“For a first-timer, you’re doing incredible,” Ronan said, and Adam grinned.

“You were right.” Ronan raised an eyebrow and he continued, “It has been helping. I feel… powerful. In control, like you said. Thank you.”

Ronan nodded and gave him a little smile that was smaller but more personal than his grins. “Do you wanna try going against me? I’ll go real easy on you.”

Adam hesitated. It had been going well so far, so he said yes.

“You’re sure?”

“I don’t want to live my life in fear.” He said it with certainty.

Ronan nodded and instructed him on the differences between training with equipment and another person. Ronan threw the first punch, and Adam easily slid out from his aim. If Ronan’s performance when Adam had first arrived today was any comparison, he definitely was going easy on Adam. Adam found this much more challenging, but then, he had always liked a challenge.

They fought like that for a few minutes, and both men were having fun. Their attempts at pinning the other often resulted in laughter. This was the case until one of Ronan’s fists came flying in Adam’s direction unexpectedly, and Adam held his breath and closed his eyes. All that Ronan taught him went out the window as his instincts kicked in. A tear escaped his left eye. Ronan caught himself just in time and pivoted to avoid colliding with Adam’s shoulder. He cursed.

“Parrish. Adam. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Adam shook his head and took a seat. He wiped at his eyes and stared at his feet for a few minutes as he regained control of his emotions. Ronan sat next to him and waited for him to be ready to talk.

When Adam looked up again to meet Ronan’s gaze, Ronan apologized again. “I shouldn’t have suggested you fight me. It was too much, too soon.” Ronan was ashamed, and he wanted to go hide inside himself, but he owed Adam his support right now.

“Ronan, it’s not your fault.” His voice was a little raw. Ronan opened his mouth to argue, but Adam didn’t let him. “No. It’s not. I thought I could handle it, I thought it would make me feel even more empowered than the other stuff you showed me. I made my own decision.”

Ronan nodded but still told Adam, “You put your trust in me— ”

“And you didn’t break my trust.”

Ronan nodded again, and by the look in his eye, Adam thought he had gotten through to him. “Fuck, why are you reassuring _me_? Are you sure you’re ok?”

Adam wiped at his eyes again but smiled at Ronan. “I didn’t have a panic attack, did I? That’s a major improvement. Yeah, I’m alright. Sometimes you have to test your limits to figure them out, right?” Adam rested his head on Ronan’s shoulder. They both smelled like sweat but he didn’t care.

Ronan didn’t say anything in response, but he took Adam’s hand in his and rubbed circles into Adam’s palm. They sat like this for a while, but eventually, Ronan checked his watch and noted that some of the guys were going to be in soon for training.

“Do you want to come over to my apartment for a little while?” He didn’t want to leave Adam alone after all that. He also didn’t want to leave Adam alone in general.

Adam nodded. “As long as I can study a little.” Ronan pushed himself up. He held out a hand to help Adam up, but once Adam was standing, he didn’t let go.

“You got something you want to say to me, Lynch?”

And that was all it took. Ronan had been watching Adam learn his sport for the past two hours and he couldn’t touch, couldn’t kiss. He’d been dying to change that.

Ronan pushed Adam against the punching bag behind them and kissed him hard. Adam kissed back with just as much fervor. The punching bag worked exceptionally poorly as a solid surface to kiss one’s crush against, so their kiss was broken when Adam lost his balance and fell over, laughing.

“Asshole,” Ronan murmured, but with fondness in his voice and in his eyes.

“Come here,” Adam said, amusement still in his voice. He brushed his thumb along Ronan’s cheek and leaned in. This kiss was much softer. This kiss was a conversation, a confession of affection from both parties. “Let’s go get cleaned up, yeah?” Adam whispered.

“You better not stare at me while I shower like you were staring at me when you first came in today, Parrish,” Ronan teased as he took off for the locker room without Adam.

“Like you were staring at me the entire time you were teaching me how to box?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Adam quickly caught up with him. “Better not push it, Lynch. I can still say no when you ask me to be your boyfriend later. I won’t, but I could.”

That shut Ronan up pretty effectively.

\

They all sat around a circular booth at Nino’s a few weeks after. Gansey’s arm was around Blue and Ronan’s was around Adam. The four had been quietly observing an awkward first date that was occurring a few tables away, and Blue muttered about how grateful she was that wasn’t working for this.

Gansey straightened his back and rolled his shoulders back. “I have an announcement.” Once he had everyone’s attention, he continued. “Yesterday my editor, Dr. Malory, spoke to me. He wants to send the piece I did about Ronan to a national collegiate journalism contest.”

He didn’t wish to boast, but he was proud of his work. And he was still in awe about all that this one little idea had brought to his life. The others congratulated him and he was quiet for a while as he ate his pizza. He didn’t know if magic was real but if the feeling in his chest was anything to go by, he had to say it did.

Gansey had been thinking a lot recently about his friends, but wide-eyed at dinner tonight he couldn’t get it out of his mind. He had loved Ronan fiercely for so long that he had forgotten what it was like to have new best friends. It was only a couple months after he had met Adam and Blue, but he knew without hesitation that he would do anything for them. Just like Ronan.

“What are you smiling like that for? You look creepy.” Ronan asked him a little bit later.

“I’m simply thinking about how you brought Adam and Blue into our lives.”

“I didn’t do jack shit, Dickwad.”

“Well, I suppose indirectly. I only met Adam from researching the story on you.”

“Maybe he’s just lucky like that,” Adam said, earning a kiss from Ronan.

When Gansey had suggested Ronan that he invited Adam to Nino’s that first time, Ronan hadn’t known who he had been talking about at first. Then Gansey had said, “the cute guy who works at your boxing studio,” and Ronan had instantly understood. Ronan had confessed to Gansey that he’d found Adam attractive from the first time he had seen him, but he had threatened to break Gansey’s arms if he said anything to Adam about it. So Gansey had elected to take less obvious measures to set the two up, and he was pretty satisfied with the result. If he wasn’t so enamored with Jane he might have even been a little jealous at how perfectly they fit together. With the all the pushing he had to do for Adam and Ronan, Gansey had been surprised when Blue had made moves on him so easily. He would never forget that first time they made out. It was on his bed the night of her gymnastics competition. If he hadn’t already been smitten, he certainly was after that.

“Maybe it’s the art that’s lucky.” His friends all looked confused, so he clarified, “The art of journalism.”

“Ok, nerd,” Blue said.

“No, I’m serious. It’s been a long time since I’ve rowed, and I forgot what it felt like to be involved in athletics. Part of my objective with the feature was to put myself in your shoes so that I could really understand that feeling again, Ronan. Writing that story, and spending so much time with you and your gymnastics, Jane — they helped me internalize the camaraderie and the adrenaline again.”

Ronan made a wry comment about the article helping him live out his long-held secret fantasy of becoming a reporter. Gansey knew it was sarcastic but he ran with it.

“I could make this a series. Only Glendower knows who we’ll meet from interviewing people for the paper. Jane! I could do you next! And Adam! Good things seem to happen when I write about the people I love.”

He received a variety of groans from that, but they could tease all they wanted. The gears were turning in hyperspeed. Gansey grinned from excitement as he took another bite of his pizza. Yes, this could work.

\

FIN.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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